LEVIATHAN
It was past midnight when we returned from the run. We’d all gotten caught up in the camaraderie that came from running as a pack. June and the children had all gone to bed already. The fact that I didn’t get the chance to say goodnight sent a burning sadness through my chest. I shuffled off to my cabin, falling into bed, exhausted but unable to sleep with thoughts of June running through my head.
I remembered the look in her eyes right before we’d gone into the woods. That melancholy at being left out. I usually saw that look in young ones who had yet to shift for the first time.
When I finally awoke after two or three hours of fitful sleep, I decided it was time to work on teaching June to shift again. Maybe enough time had passed that she wouldn’t be so tense anymore.
On the walk over, my mind played over some of theotherthings she’d learned. Those carnal, intimate lessons I hoped I’d get to give more of. Though, maybe we’d need to wait on that until she could shift.Maybe.
When I got to the cabin, she was nowhere to be found. In fact, it looked like everyone was gone. Checking my watch, I realized they would all either be at breakfast or out doing chores.
I went to the dining cabin, where the chatter of voices could be heard from outside. This was the next best place to find her. What I found when I opened the door, however, was not what I’d expected.
The normal murmur of conversation was still prevalent, but there was a subdued nature to it. The reason for that quickly became clear. Most of the people here were watching some interaction play out on the opposite end of the dining hall.
June and Eugenia were facing each other.
“How pathetic is it to be twenty-seven years old and still unable to shift?” Eugenia said, her tone mocking.
I clenched my fists.
“Why does it matter to you whether I can shift or not? I’ve always wonderedwhyshifters are bigoted toward people who can’t shift. What is it about us that scares you?”
“Scares?Oh, please,” Eugenia spat. “We would rather interact with people who aren’t so…” She looked June up and down, then sneered. “Below us.”
“Hey!”My voice boomed across the space, exploding like a grenade.
A deafening silence fell over everyone as every head turned toward me. Eugenia quailed at the sight of me. She’d always been careful to make sure I only ever saw her sappy and sweet exterior. Rainier had warned me about it, but I was always off in the woods, running through the forest. Now I’d seen it with my own eyes, and I would have no more of it,especiallynot when it came to June.
Every eye stayed glued on me as I stalked toward Eugenia. She couldn’t even meet my gaze. June, however, looked at me with a confusing combination of irritation and exasperation. Ignoring her for the moment, I turned my glare on Eugenia.
“What is this all about?” I snarled, still clenching my fists.
“Levi, I?—”
“You’ll call me Leviathan, orsir,” I said.
Her face flushed red, and she still wouldn’t meet my eyes. Her usual group of friends had already stood, moving away from the table, putting space between themselves and their friend, probably scared of being caught in the heat of my anger.
“Leviathan,” Eugenia said slowly. “I was just having a conversation with Juniper.”
“A conversation?” I barked. “You were doing your best to be an asshole for no good reason.”
“Levi, I was handling this,” June said, speaking up for the first time since I arrived. “There’s no reason to?—”
“Hang on, I’m not done. You’re going to apologize to June, Eugenia. Now.”
“Apologize?” The woman finally lifted her eyes to meet mine. The indignation in her voice only stoked my anger.
Leaning in close, I let a growl rumble up from my chest. “Did I stutter?”
Her lips pressed into a tight line, but I could already see her resolve crumbling beneath the angry glare of her alpha.
Finally, she turned to June. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.
“It’s okay,” June said.
“No, it’s not,” I said. “That was a shit apology. Tell herwhyyou’re sorry.”
